By KIRK JOHNSON

Published: September 7, 2005

Lovers of the rural life in the Ozark Mountains of northwestern Arkansas would no doubt appreciate Baptist Vista Encampment, a rustic summer retreat on a long, winding dirt road here. But for the 150 hurricane evacuees who arrived just before dark on Monday, having been told almost nothing about where they were going or how long they would stay, the emotions were more complicated.

From urban, cosmopolitan New Orleans, the evacuees came to a place that was alien to many of them and downright frightening to more than a few. Earnest church volunteers warned them not to wander into the woods, especially at night; there were bears and poisonous snakes out there, they said, and it was easy to get lost. Cicadas clicked and clattered from the tall trees. This could be home, the evacuees were told, for the next 60 days.

Add culture shock to the long list of Hurricane Katrina's effects. Fifty thousand to 100,000 people, mostly from Louisiana, have made their way to Arkansas, mostly using their own resources, Gov. Mike Huckabee said in a telephone interview. About 6,000 -- the most destitute and desperate, and therefore the least able to negotiate terms about where they go next -- have been dispersed to places like Baptist Vista Encampment.

Fort Chaffee, the big military base about 50 miles from here that is serving as the state's nerve center for handling the influx of evacuees, was a symbol a generation ago of the nation's response to the tens of thousands of refugees from Cuba in what became known as the Mariel boatlift.

Now the base is crawling with volunteers handing out clothes, water and food, and doors and hearts have been opened by places like Baptist Vista Encampment. Volunteers said there was talk of improving the cabins to make them habitable through the winter.

''We're proud to have them and delighted we can help,'' Governor Huckabee, a Republican, said.

But Betty Taylor still cried when she got off the bus in Cass and saw where fate had delivered her.

By then, she had endured a night on a highway bridge in New Orleans, where her 79-year-old mother, Jessie Jones, was picked up by a rescue team and has not been heard from since. Ms. Taylor survived three nights in the New Orleans convention center and an all-night bus ride north to Fort Chaffee. She had even managed to smile through the news on Monday that up to 20,000 more evacuees were expected at Fort Chaffee, where there are beds for only 4,000; her family, which had clung together through the last week like fingers in a fist, would be moved again.

Now, as the light faded and the buses pulled away from the Baptist encampment, it was all too much.

''All these trees,'' Ms. Taylor sobbed, as her husband, Ray, and her two sisters reached out to comfort her. ''It seems like hell.''

Mr. Taylor, a landscaper in New Orleans, wiped away a tear as well. ''It's scary,'' he said.

Chaos has compounded the journey.

The bus driver who brought the evacuees to the encampment said he did not know where the group was headed until he pulled up in front of their barracks at Fort Chaffee on Monday. He had seen the plan change at least three times. And even as the evacuees boarded, they were told that their destination was a federal Job Corps center, not a rural church camp. Some people arriving at the encampment said they felt deceived; others chalked it up to the confusion of posthurricane life.

''I think it only looks like a giant mess,'' said Rebecca H. Weber, a deputy with the Orleans Parish Sheriff's Department, who was among the evacuees arriving Monday. ''These people are really doing an amazing job.''

Some people who had not yet been shipped out of Fort Chaffee were fighting to stay because they said they feared that moving would make it harder for their families to find them.

''We're trying to avoid getting on a bus to God knows where,'' said Mario Marshall, adding that he had been trying for three days to find a way for him and a friend, Shera Lockett, to connect with relatives who had agreed to take them in. ''They're treating us like cattle.''

Mr. Huckabee said that one of his priorities in establishing a camp system, which is dominated by religious retreats like Baptist Vista Encampment, was creating a sense of order. Over the last few days, he said, a system of paid civil government has been set up for each camp, with a ''mayor'' to provide administration and a ''police chief'' to be in charge of security. The next steps, he said, include installing phone banks and offering employment services.

But for now, at least, there is no way to even watch television.

''There are no antennas out here,'' said Fred A. Ernst, whose badge identified him as the constable of the encampment. ''They're working on bringing in some radios.''

Photo: Jonay Brown walked back to her temporary quarters at Fort Chaffee, Ark., on Monday with toys and games handed out by volunteers. (Photo by Spencer Tirey for The New York Times)